Guest Post: An Object of Miscellany

Well, ask and you shall receive :-)  I have been soliciting guest posts as a means of getting conversations moving in new and fascinating directions, and I've already gotten two.  Yay!  This post is written by Kenny Martin, who possess wisdom far beyond his years (we've had some very philosophical conversations via Facebook).  I'm going to respond to Kenny's post below it, but Kenny and I would both to hear your thoughts on this.  Oh, and keep the guest posts rolling in ... I'm feeling very re-energized :-)

Those against whom the fractiously tailored lives have gone, those who have been bequeathed without regard or piety, megrims, have another fault to lay blame upon aside from self. 

The genomic convolution and, by extension, the scientific methodologies at large have been partitioned as another of the archetypical points upon which the generation of the current day can relinquish both their hopes and their fears. 

There is a new absolution, and it is not contrived from spiritualism nor worship but from logicalities and concreteness. 

However, what, if anything, could be derived from this whether it be rooted in maleficence or benignity? 

The answer, I feel, is a drastic although not inevitable paradigm shift during which we choose between the subjective outlooks and the objective doctrines thereby conforming to one as a whole. However, people are not invariant, but to gauge the societal model as a whole would be the proving grounds as to acquiesce with which one reigns as the predominant model as of late. 

To speak with brevity, I will offer but one question: to which do you adhere and where does the populous as a whole reside?
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(It's me--Katie--again).

I was having a very similar discussion with a group of English teachers last week ... the idea of fate vs. free will, but when you add science into it, it brings a whole different dimension.

So can you blame your genetic makeup for how your life turns out?  Is that any different than blaming any sort of higher power you might believe in?  Different from saying, "Everyone's an asshole but me, and the world is out to get me?"

I, for one, don't think so.

It's funny, we were discussing "Fate" and "Free Will" on a 1-10 scale (in terms of whose fault it was that Oedipus wound up with the fate he did), and I fell much closer to the "Fate" end than most people ... but I believe strongly in free will as well (in other words, there are some things you just can't do a damn thing about, but how you handle events like death or natural disasters or the stock market or whatever is completely and totally up to you).

When you add in the gene factor, I don't think my mindset would be much different.  

You're handed a hand of cards in life ... how you play them is up to you.  If you are genetically predisposed to alcoholism, for example, it doesn't guarantee that you'll be an alcoholic.  If your genes call you to dark places, you can still choose to search for the sun (or take medication).  

I am also, as someone incapable of adding two digit numbers without using my fingers and only made it through the science-based parts of my schooling because my sister grew up to have a PhD in a field of biology, doubtful of "logicalities and concreteness".  I mean, it was "proven" at one point that the world was flat.  Thalidomide was given the scientific world's seal of approval.  And so on.  

So I don't think that the greater world is going to be surprised by any sort of scientific explanation for human behavior.  I'd even go so far as to say it won't change a thing, except possibly increasing the entitlement complex that permeates our culture.

I go back to alcoholism.  I don't mean to sound insensitive, but that "It's a disease" line only goes so far.  When you lie about everything, when you bully the crap out of the one person that has made Herculean efforts to salvage your relationship with your child despite your best efforts to self-sabotage, when you blame everybody else about the situation that you put yourself in, when you refuse to take treatment seriously (such as claiming to be on the "making amends" steps when in reality you haven't admitted to yourself that someone as freaking God-like as you could *possibly* be an alcoholic) ... you know, grow a set, man up, and get over yourself.  There is alcoholism in my genes as well (a lot, actually ... damn Irish ;-)), and I've managed to avoid it; somehow I've been able to take responsibility for my life and mistakes instead of drinking myself into a stupor to avoid reality (and then lying about drinking myself into a stupor to further avoid reality) ... well, I guess this rant should probably end because the point has been made.  

One of my best friends has a life slogan: "PMA (Positive Mental Attitude)".  That is how I try to live my life (I do fail epically at times, although I've gotten much better).  I think that mindset is much stronger than any sort of scientific propensities.

Who Am I To Argue With Fate?

Do you believe in fate? Sometimes I get all cynical and think it's a bunch of crap, that karma does not in fact pay you back for living a life that focuses on bettering the world for others,doesn't bring down the people who bring so much pain and suffering into the world.

Then I have days like today where I realize that there has to be something ... call it God, call it fate, call it good luck, but man ...

So last night, my computer suddenly went psycho. I mean, we're talking crazy. I was pretty sure it was a lost cause (whatever it was swept through the virus protection like wildfire), and Addie confirmed that this morning.

Of course, I had a decision to make. Should I go to a computer specialty store to see if they can repair the earliest version of a Netbook, or should I just get a new computer (which has been on the radar for awhile ... Netbooks have good points, but they also have severe limitations).

Anyway, I'm typing this on my beautiful, brand new laptop :-)

Back to fate for a minute, though.

I got this urge yesterday to print my novel. I have a hard time editing on a computer screen (it's kind of like why I don't have a Kindle or a Nook, despite my insatiable appetite for reading), and I knew I had a lot of work to do.

To make matters even more interesting, my printer is special and prints one page at a time. My completed novel is lengthy. Quite lengthy. It made more sense to just go to Staples, so I put it on a USB and paid far too much money to it printed.

Yeah, do you see why the "one page at a time" approach was just not feasible?

Anyway, while I was putting the novel onto a USB, I figured I might as well print out my current WIP, too. After all, it's in need of some editing as well.

When my computer appeared to be possessed by the equivalent of Charles Manson on acid, I was momentarily hysterical. Other than Addie and Belle (and possibly my dogs), those two pieces of writing are the most important thing in the world to me.

They weren't backed up until yesterday. (Stupid, I know)

Thank you, whatever force made me take care of that business yesterday. I owe you one!

And, if you're interested in exploring my novel in terms of critique or style or abject curiosity or whatev, you can read some of it here, and/or weigh in on a recent struggle I've had with it right here.

And, just because I'm excited about it, here's the hard-to-read dedication page (no pseudonyms there, but I don't think the people on the page would be offended ... interesting that I've written about most of them here under assumed names, though).

Sometimes the Stars Align

I've been thinking a lot today about how sometimes the universe gives you what you need, even if there is a cost that makes it seem less than sweet at the time. My great gift of the past week or so? Pancreatitis. Yes, I'm serious.

Pancreatitis is just what it sounds like, an inflammation of the pancreas. What cannot be put into words, however, is how painful it is. At its worst, it feels as though someone is drilling through your upper abdomen and all the way through to your back--it is relentless and there is no relief. It hurts to breathe, it hurts to wear a bra, it hurts to move, and I don't just mean "hurts" ... I mean agony. And my pain threshold is pretty high.

I have chronic pancreatitis as the result of a liver issue. Basically, when they tried to repair some damage to my liver, the doctors messed up my pancreas for life (I was in the hospital on a morphine drip for nearly a month following what was supposed to be a minor surgical procedure). It's a long and not terribly interesting story, but the bottom line is that I have occasional flare-ups that are incredibly painful but usually fairly short-lived--I haven't been hospitalized in almost two years.

Like pretty much any other chronic medical condition, stress and lack of adequate rest are contributing factors in the frequency and intensity of the flare-ups.

I am under an enormous amount of stress at work that, as I've mentioned before, I can't get into, much as I'd like to (I vent like crazy on my secret, hidden blog, though ;-)). Suffice it to say that I for the first time am wondering about some people's agendas--if you are not in the education field to educate children, then why in the world don't you go bring your two-faced, backstabbing tendencies into a job where it would be beneficial, like a collection agency or a law firm or Abu Ghraib?

I also have a tendency to burn the proverbial candle at both ends, which is nobody's fault but my own.

On Wednesday morning, a pancreatitis flare-up came out of the clear blue sky like a gunshot (kind of felt like a gunshot, too :-(). It was so bad that I called the doctor to make an appointment (I refuse to go to the ER in general because they'll make me stay in the hospital for a week and I just can't do that) ... and I also cried in a meeting, which is most unlike me.

So I went to the doctor that afternoon, by which time the pain was still pretty bad but not wall-punching, tear-inducing unbearable. She did bloodwork (and was unsurprised with the results), gave me more Percocet, and suggested I go to the ER if it got unspeakable again. I explained that this was not going to happen, so she told me that I had to take the next day (Thursday) off from work and wrote a note to this effect.

Yeah, I HATE to miss work and had been out four days the week before because I was in Vermont doing work on a school reaccreditation team. So I went to work on Thursday and had what might well have been my worst day ever in terms of losing any last shred of respect I could potentially have ever had for a couple of my colleagues. It was dreadful and, as I was exhausted and in a tremendous amount of pain, I decided to take Friday off so that I could hopefully get some rest and start to bounce back a little bit.

Best decision ever.

I have been resting (like, sitting down, only getting up to pee or get some more ginger ale resting) for three days. I've been reading a lot and writing even more--this blog, for example, a place that I swore never to abandon, had been kind of abandoned, and it's been great to be able to post a few pieces. I wrote some pieces for Zelda Lily that I'm really proud of--one on direct instruction in areas like empathy for school children, for example, and one on baby steps (but steps nonetheless) being taken to address sexual abuse in males which is kind of a forbidden topic--and I even revisited my second novel, the one that's 3/4 of the way finished, and got some ideas for directions to go in.

I relaxed with my kids, my mother, and my dog. It's rare for us to all be home together, but it was a nice treat. I would have enjoyed it even more if I'd been able to eat something other than chicken broth, but then again, maybe that's part of what made it so enjoyable, joking around about all the good stuff they were eating (popcorn with extra butter while watching The Perfect Storm ... mmmmmm, I was so jealous!). And Addie, who got her license on Friday, drove by herself to an event at her school, and Belle and I got to read a lot together.

So it's Sunday night now, and I'm feeling pretty good physically. I'm also feeling really good emotionally, and I think it's kind of interesting that somehow the stars aligned so that I could have a few days to do nothing but rest, to recharge my batteries, to worry only about feeling better.

I wish that it hadn't taken a 10 on the pain scale to get me to slow down and take it easy for a couple of days, but I'm kind of dense about the small stuff--taking care of myself physically, for example--sometimes.

Thank you, stars, or God, or fate, or karma, or whatever. I really needed this little rest!